


End Over End

by kumiko_sama_chan



Series: the Ski AU [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, ZoSan Christmas Exchange, ski au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 04:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kumiko_sama_chan/pseuds/kumiko_sama_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's amazing, the things that can be lost in one impromptu trip down a mountain side. But so much can also be gained.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End Over End

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 6 of the 2014 ZoSan Christmas Exchange. You may find more information on my tumblr, which is kumiko-sama-chan.tumblr.com.
> 
> This is a sort of companion piece to my fic from last year, Cabin Fever (though both can still stand alone). I think I want to make this ski au an annually updated one, since I'll be in the exchange every year. 
> 
> Please enjoy.

_"And here's Roronoa preparing for his first run of the day." The announcer's voice was confident and calm. Completely self-assured._

_Zoro rocked once in the bindings of his favorite Ichimonji skis and then a second time, his body crowding the confined space of the starting gate._

_"He's following a stunning performance by world renowned skier, Mihawk Dracule, who just set a new world record in the downhill event."_

_Zoro jabbed his ski poles into the packed snow beside his skis, appearing almost impatient for the race to begin._

_"I can't imagine what must be going through Roronoa's head right now."_

_The countdown to the start began and Zoro's entire body tensed._

_"Even though many still consider him a rookie, Roronoa was the clear favorite to win today until Dracule's surprise appearance."_

_The buzzer sounded and Zoro exploded out of the gate. With a few powerful kicks, he skated across the snow, picking up enough speed to start off his run before quickly settling into his more aerodynamic tucked position._

_"Look at that start! Roronoa has always been strong at the top of the hill. What incredible power in those legs. Let's see how he does in these first few turns."_

_Zoro hit the first turn faster than he ever had before, his split time flashing up on the screen at a mere hundredth of a second slower than Mihawk's had been._

_"He has an insane amount control for such a young skier. What an athlete. Look at how perfect his form is!"_

_There was a small jump that Zoro cleared with ease and then another series of wide turns. The scrape of his skis sliding over the packed snow echoed in the clear mountain air as he neared his next obstacle._

_"Wow! Look at that time! Roronoa is less than a hundredth behind Dracule! If he keeps this up, he could win!"_

_The wind created by Zoro's speed ripped at his trademarked green ski suit and whistled around his helmet. As he hit a straight downhill stretch, he pulled his limbs in closer, gaining speed as he came upon the last and most difficult S-turn._

_"Did you see that?! Did you see that?! Look at that speed! Roronoa just broke 100 miles per hour! You could almost hear the sonic boom from here!"_

_Zoro easily completed the top of the S, his speed almost reckless as he approached the bottom._

_"Wait? Was that a wobble in his right leg just now?"_

_The bottom of the S came too quickly. Zoro's leg wobbled again and then his foot flew out from under him. He struggled to correct himself, but couldn't at such a high speed. His other ski slipped and Zoro lost control. He turned his body as he fell, landing protectively on his side as he careened down the mountain side. He lost one ski and then the other. They slid leisurely after him before running into a barrier. But Zoro didn't stop. Instead, he continued to tumble down the piste, taking out one gate after another. Officials raced onto the track, hoping to slow his progress or guess where he might stop. Mere seconds felt like agonizing hours until Zoro's momentum carried him over a flag, snapping its pole, and partially up one of the embankments on the side of the course. He slammed into the netting on the side and then rolled back down toward the center of the track._

_"Oh my God. Oh my God. What a crash. He hit that turn going at 100 miles per hour; can you imagine how much he must be hurting right now? Wait…wait. Is that BLOOD?!"_

"Sanji. Sanji! Sanji, please let go! You're hurting me! SANJI!"

Sanji flinched, but otherwise didn't move until Nami ripped her hand from his. He just couldn't tear his eyes away from the television screen, couldn't look away from the huge puddle of blood that was quickly forming a circle around Zoro's lifeless body. It all still felt so unreal, even though he had already seen this same footage and heard the same commentary at least ten times. Even though he had been there, waiting in the crowd at the bottom to see his closest friend—no, boyfriend—emerge victorious. Zoro had been so close. That had been his last turn. Just a few hundred feet more and he would have been the new world champion.

But instead the stupid mosshead had crashed and wound up in the emergency room, leaving Sanji and his friends to watch his accident play over and over and over on the outdated waiting room TV.

Sanji felt his throat begin to close as the medics rushed to Zoro's unmoving body on the screen. They had later discovered that the last pole he had hit and broken had cut him, its jagged edge ripping the skier open from shoulder to hip. The Ski Patrollers hadn't been sure of any other injuries, but had expressed concern that Zoro would even make it to the hospital. He had lost so much blood.

"Sanji."

It was Nami again. She was gripping his arm, squeezing it painfully as she tried to get his attention.

"Sanji, you need to stop watching that. Sanji, please."

Sanji drew a rattling breath, but continued to watch despite Nami's pleas. They were showing Zoro being loaded into the Medevac helicopter. The paramedics seemed almost desperate in their attempts to revive the skier and even with the camera at a distance, Zoro looked so pale.

"O-Oi! Someone shut that shit off!" yelled Usopp, his voice trembling when the nurse at the check-in desk glared at him.

Sanji's eyes widened and he leaned forward in the uncomfortable plastic chair. They had cut to a slow motion replay of Zoro's doomed turn, pausing the film to highlight when his foot had first slid out from underneath him. Stupid idiot. Why had he been so reckless? He should have known that there was no way he could beat Mihawk, so why had he even tried? He had been on track to qualify for the Winter Olympics in a few years, but now he was in surgery, fighting for his life. Sanji clenched his fists tightly enough for his nails to cut into his palms.

Why couldn't he have settled for second place?

Suddenly, the TV switched off, leaving Sanji to blink in confusion at the blackened screen. It should have helped, but he could still see the afterimages dancing before his eyes.

"Sanji," pressed Nami, her hand covering his and squeezing it.

This time he heard her. He took a deep breath and winced as he felt his muscles spasm around it. When he finally turned to look at Nami, he found tears running down her cheeks. How could he have ignored her for all this time?

"Sanji, listen to me," she said. Her voice was thick from crying. It made Sanji's heart ache even more. "He's going to be fine, you hear me? So stop watching that crap, okay?"

Sanji wanted to speak. He wanted with everything that he had to agree with her, but his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, its weight nearly suffocating him.

"I don't know…" said Usopp. He was slumped in his chair, his Ski Patrol jacket open and revealing the dark bloodstains on the yellow sweater beneath it. Usopp had been one of the first on the scene of Zoro's crash. His hands had been steady in their treatment, but now they wouldn't stop shaking. "Nami, there was so much blood."

There was a deep silence in the waiting room, the sounds of nurses, doctors, and patients muffled by the small group's grief. Sanji turned away from his friends, choosing instead to stare intensely at his shoes. This was all too surreal.

"Zoro will make it," said Luffy. His face was set in a determined scowl. "Zoro will definitely make it. He can't die. Not here, not now."

"How do you know?" spat Sanji. He went to grab a cigarette, remembered he wasn't allowed to smoke, and crushed it in his hand. "How can you be so sure? You saw that crash. You saw all that…all that blood. Who the hell survives that kind of shit?"

Luffy studied him for a moment, his mouth set in a deep frown. He almost looked disappointed. The thought made Sanji's breath hitch in his lungs.

"Zoro does."

Sanji huffed, irritated by Luffy's overly simplistic answer. That wasn't good enough. He wouldn't believe it until his saw it. He glared at his friend.

"Yeah. Fine. Whatever," he bit out, standing hurriedly before Luffy could answer. He put a fresh cigarette in his mouth, chewing the filter as he began to pace. Someone turned the TV back on and Sanji groaned. "I need some air."

Just as he reached the end of the check-in desk, a doctor still in his scrubs passed him closely enough that their shoulders brushed against one another. Sanji turned to curse at him, but the doctor ignored him, walking straight over to Luffy and the others.

"You kids with Roronoa?" asked the doctor, his voice cold.

Sanji froze in his tracks as the others answered. He couldn't decide if he wanted to stay or to run. He didn't think he could handle bad news.

"H-How is he?" asked Usopp, sounding as terrified as Sanji felt.

There was a brief pregnant pause and then…

"He made it through," said the doctor. "The cut was just deep enough to bleed a lot, but missed anything vital. We gave him a transfusion and stitched him up. He also had a mild concussion. He'll wake up with a headache and one hell of a scar, but he should make a full recovery."

His friends reacted the way that friends should, sharing sighs of relief and hugging each other. Luffy even sprang at the doctor, wrapping his arms around him in a bone crushing embrace. But Sanji couldn't move, not even when Usopp approached him from behind and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Did you hear that, Sanji?" asked Usopp. "Zoro's fine. He's gonna make it." Usopp's relief washed over Sanji like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him. "Luffy was right."

"Of course he was," said Sanji, sounding more bitter than he had intended. He pulled away from Usopp's grasp. "I'm going out for a smoke. Don't wait up."

As he strode out of the waiting room, Sanji couldn't help but to feel that he had let all of his friends down.

It wasn't until hours later when all of his friends had gone home to rest, that Sanji finally made his way to Zoro's hospital room. He would have put off seeing him even longer, but he had smoked through his entire pack of cigarettes and an exasperated nurse had informed him that the hospital had stopped selling them decades ago. He stood just inside the doorway, fidgeting as he fought with his own pitiful courage.

The room was dimly lit and sparsely furnished. There was a small table and a couple of chairs in the corner. Someone had gone to the trouble of putting an artificial Christmas tree on the table; its ornaments appeared to have been made by the kids in the children's ward. There was a window that overlooked the parking lot and a door that led to the adjoining bathroom. But other than that, there was only the hospital bed. And Zoro.

Sanji took another tentative step inside and felt something in his chest constrict painfully. Zoro was still asleep. The doctor had said that it would be some time before the anesthesia wore off. He looked so much smaller than he normally did. Zoro had always been full of life. Even when he meditated, energy seemed to roll off of him in waves. But the Zoro that lay before Sanji in the hospital bed almost looked dead. And if it hadn't been for the constant beep of the heart monitor and the shallow rise and fall of his chest under all of those bandages, Sanji would have assumed that he was.

"You fucking idiot," grumbled Sanji.

Heaving a deep sigh, he pulled a chair away from the table and over to the side of the bed. He took another shaking breath as he sat down.

"You fucking, fucking idiot." Zoro didn't move, didn't even twitch. Sanji gripped the sheets, his palms sweating through the fabric. "You stupid shitty grass green bastard. Fucking reckless marimo moron. What in the fucking fuck is wrong with you?"

Still no answer, though Sanji honestly hadn't expected one. He was so angry. It took all of his self control to not grab and shake his friend. He wanted to beat Zoro senseless. How dare he so willingly give up his life for something as meaningless as a world title? What did it matter if it was his dream? How was that worth dying for? Sanji could feel his eyes burning, but he held the tears back. He wouldn't cry for Zoro, no matter how much he cared for him. This was the bastard's own fault. Sanji relinquished his grip on the sheets to cradle his head in his arms, one of his hands brushing against Zoro's.

"You fucking idiot." Sanji wasn't crying, but the quiver in his voice said otherwise. "You stupid piece of shi—"

"The nurse said I'd find you in here."

Sanji hiccupped and slowly raised his head at the sound of Zeff's voice. He found his adoptive father standing on the other side of the bed, his arms folded over his barrel-like chest and his mustache twitching angrily as he stared down at Sanji.

"What are you doing here, old man?" growled Sanji, sitting up properly.

"I heard that your broccoli sprout here crashed and burned," said Zeff. "Thought I'd make sure that my baby eggplant was handling it okay. Looks like I got here just in time."

"I don't need a shitty babysitter," griped Sanji.

Zeff scowled at him. "You could have fooled me."

Father and son shared a venomous glare. Sanji was the first to look away.

"He's so fucking stupid," muttered Sanji, focusing all of his attention back on Zoro's slumbering form.

"That's not the word I would use to describe him," said Zeff. "Granted, he's not the sharpest knife in the kitchen, but it wasn't stupidity that caused that crash."

"You're right," said Sanji. He could feel his old man's eyes focused on him and stifled the urge to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "It was shitty recklessness."

"Maybe."

"Okay, fine. What do you think it was?" asked Sanji, finally looking back at Zeff.

"Something you used to have," said Zeff. "Determination."

Zeff's words hit Sanji like a slap in the face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Huh." Zeff furrowed his brow and suddenly Sanji felt like he had as a child when his old man caught him making a mistake in the kitchen. The disappointment was almost too much to bear. "I thought you were smarter than that, eggplant."

"Well, apparently I'm not, so you'll have to spell it out for me."

Zeff sighed and his shoulders dropped as he uncrossed his arms. "You still have so much to learn."

Sanji opened his mouth to retort, only to be cut off by a sharp glare from Zeff.

"Listen, Sanji. From now on, I want you to pay close attention to this boy. What he did today was dedicate himself completely to his dream. Yes, it almost got him killed, but it's that drive that's going to allow him to accomplish it someday."

"Yeah, but—"

"Don't argue with me," said Zeff. "When was the last time you really went after your dream?"

Sanji opened his mouth and closed it, unable to form a sufficient response. He wanted to find All Blue. It was said to be the most beautiful and most challenging slope to ski. Buried deep in the Grand Line Mountains, most believed that it was a myth, but Sanji knew better. He would tell anyone that would listen about its wonders. He had even told Zoro once when they had been trapped together in a cabin during a blizzard a year ago. But he had given up on finding it. Sanji had experienced firsthand what happened to those that foolishly chased a dream. His eyes flicked to Zeff's prosthetic leg, the metal and plastic hidden beneath his pants. He still felt the weight of Zeff's sacrifice for him so many years ago.

He took a deep breath and swallowed whatever argument he might have made. Maybe Zeff was right.

"Okay," said Zeff with finality. "I'm going to see if I can find anything edible in the cafeteria. You stay here."

Sanji rolled his eyes. "Like I was going to leave."

His old man spared him the briefest skeptical look and then limped out of the room. Sanji watched him go and then returned his attention to Zoro. The bastard was still sleeping, looking more like he was napping at home than lying in a hospital bed. Some of his color had even begun to return.

"Determination, huh?" said Sanji. He let a pent up breath whistle between his teeth. He laid his head back down on the blankets beside Zoro's hand. "Well, you're still a stupid marimo bastard."

He heaved a sigh and let his eyelids flutter closed. He was exhausted. It had been a long, terrible day and, even unconscious, Zoro was like a big green space heater. Sanji's breathing began to even out as he slowly relaxed, trying his best to let his mind wander away from that morning's events.

"It's better than being a shitty curlybrowed cook."

Sanji's head snapped up, his eyes wide.

"Don't look so surprised, cook," said Zoro in a dry rasp. He smirked weakly. "It takes more than a little fall to kill me."

"'Little fall' my ass," snapped Sanji. "You left half your body weight in blood on the shitty mountainside!"

Zoro's smirk fell away. "Mihawk won, didn't he?"

Sanji pressed his lips together. He hadn't exactly stuck around to see the results of the competition, but there was no way that anyone else had beaten the record holding skier.

"I figured as much," said Zoro. "I realized it was a lost cause about halfway down the trail."

"What the hell?!" yelled Sanji. "If you knew you were going to lose, then why the fucking hell did you try to go faster?!"

"No one ever got better by giving up," said Zoro with a deadpan expression. "And I'm going to be the best." He began to shift weakly under his covers, trying to prop himself up into a sitting position. "Now, help me up. I want to see if they'll let me go over that course again. See where I went wrong."

"WHAT?!" Sanji leapt to his feet, immediately planting his hands against Zoro's shoulders and pushing him back into the hospital bed. "You idiot! You can't do that now! They just fucking sewed you back together! You'll rip your stitches!"

"Oh yeah, I guess you're right," said Zoro.

Suddenly, Sanji felt an arm wrap around his waist as he was pulled onto the bed. He fought against Zoro for only a moment before he lost his traction on the slick tile floor and fell on top of him. Zoro hissed in pain as Sanji landed on his healing wound, but still held him in place when he struggled.

"Quit squirming, curlybrow!" Zoro grunted when Sanji jabbed an elbow into his side. "Dammit! You were the one that was just whining about these stitches!"

"Well, you shouldn't have pulled me on top of you!" Sanji snapped back. But he quit struggling anyway, carefully positioning himself so his head rested against Zoro's uninjured shoulder as he felt one hand slide up his side. Sanji unsuccessfully attempted to bat Zoro's hand away. "You're an asshole."

"Yeah, well…" He felt Zoro shrug. "I'm pretty sure you established that earlier."

"How much of that did you hear?" asked Sanji, his cheeks heating slightly.

"Enough that you should be really embarrassed."

"Bastard."

Zoro hummed, the sound vibrating pleasantly throughout Sanji's body. He could feel Zoro drifting off to sleep again. Sanji guessed that had more to do with the pain medication than anything else. Moving as carefully as possible, he settled into a more comfortable position beside Zoro, gingerly laying one arm across his bandaged torso. From this side of the bed he could look out of the window and found that the parking lot was obscured by his lower vantage point, but that he had a perfect view of the mountains beyond. Snow had begun to fall. Sanji imagined that they might be closing down operations at the ski resort where he and Zoro had met to prepare for the incoming storm. If she was back at work, Nami might be announcing her rehearsed closing call.

"Mmmm…cook?" Zoro's speech was slurred from sleep and medication.

"Yes, mosshead?" asked Sanji, smiling when Zoro's arm tightened around him.

"When you find All Blue, can I ski it with you?"

Sanji froze, stunned by Zoro's words.

"Well?"

Sanji wanted to laugh and cry all at once. Zoro hadn't said "if" but "when". It was so typical of him, always thinking in absolutes. In Zoro's mind, there was no doubt that they would both accomplish their dreams. Suddenly, Zeff's words made a lot more sense. Sanji thought of All Blue and how amazing it would be when he found it and shared it with his friends. He grinned.

"Sure."

He felt Zoro rest his cheek on the top of his head. "Good."

Maybe some things were worth dying for.


End file.
